Mother of Rock

The familiar clack of shoes against tile, click
of the key in the lock. Wait and rock.

Your gaze silent and grim, I long for the touch
that doesn’t come.  My tongue caught

on the cage of my mouth
tart with sour milk.

In the picture from your wedding,
a white dress of lace. As if held

down by the weight of fancy fabric,
your bones ache to float off the edges

of the frame. Mother of stone,
teach me the temperature

of tomb. Watch me chase my tail.
Toss me a cloth, a bottle of milk.


Tiana Nobile lives in New Orleans, Louisiana. She is a recipient of a 2017 Rona Jaffe Foundation Writer’s Award, the Lucy Grealy Prize for Poetry from Sarah Lawrence College, and a fellowship fromKundiman. A Pushcart Prize nominee, Tiana is the author of the chapbookThe Spirit of the Staircase (2017), and her poetry has appeared in The CollagistPoetry NorthwestApogeeHyphen Magazine, and the Texas Review, among others.


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